Tonight my mother took my brother and I to a second night seder at her temple,
B'nai Jeshurun. In it's defense and as far as temples go, it's a pretty great place. It's somewhat untraditional with a big focus on music, community, inclusion, etc.
However, despite it's positive aspects (and out of its control), the congregation is not without... to put it kindly - less than pleasant people. We had the terrific pleasure of sitting with some of those people tonight - people that reinforced my distress about religion and the ways religion continually "goes wrong."
In order to make the seder a bit more interesting, each table (there were 14 all together, I think) was given a part of the seder -- the kaddish, the four questions, the reciting of the plagues, etc -- and an adjoining theme -- the environment, freedom, equal rights, etc-- then one person was to be chosen from each table to be the "representative" - to stand up and introduce their tables theme to the rest of the congregation and to maybe include a personal blurb or just something in relation to the theme at hand. Well, our tables theme was gay marriage and the thousands of rights denied to same-sex couples. So, my mom quickly pointed to me and said I should be the designated speaker. I was glad to do it.
Anyway, after trying to get suggestions from the rest of the table (and mostly failing) I suggested some of my own ideas - talking about my personal life, bringing up the idea of sexual citizenship and how it applies to every one of us - not only same-sex couples, talking about governor Paterson's recent announcement to reintroduce same-sex marriage legislation in New York... and well, everything I suggested seemed to fall on deaf ears. "Sexual citizenship? That's too abstract." "I don't think that's really what the rabbi is asking of us..." etc, etc. And of course when I asked for suggestions from everyone else - no one really had any ideas. Then some lady had the nerve to yell across the table saying, "Well there are things we want you to say and we want to make sure they're said." And when I asked what those things were she said, "I don't know, maybe something about the fact that same-sex couples have problems with health insurance." Okay, fine. Happily included.
Then after realizing I was being given dirty looks and addressed in a somewhat demeaning way, I decided it might be best to take some notes on the things I planned on addressing so that I wouldn't forget anything. About halfway through my note-taking, another lady at my table turned to me and said (in a very attacking way) "You can't write! It's passover! You're not supposed to write!" First of all, I had no idea that whole "no work" thing applied to any Jewish holiday aside from Shabbat. Secondly, I was taking notes for the benefit of our table and for the benefit of those specific people at my table so keen on including their points in my little blurb. But alas, I was yelled at for taking notes.
Here I was, volunteering to speak for the entire table, taking notes so that I would leave nothing out and adding in the best way I could to the seder as a whole and I was yelled at for writing? Something about that just didn't seem right. At least not to me. How is that lady yelling at me when I'm doing nothing but positive things for the seder and how does she have the right to tell me I'm wrong? She wasn't the one writing - I was. She knew why I was writing and yet she still felt the need to outwardly address the fact that I was doing something "wrong" when it really couldn't have affected her less.
Anyway - it infuriated me. Not only did I feel belittled when I offered my initial suggestions but then I just felt... attacked. My way of doing things, my way of being "Jewish" wasn't okay with her - SO not okay that she made me put down my pen and stop writing.
If that lady couldn't be accepting and tolerant of people within her own religion, at her same seder table, how on earth could she be accepting of people practicing other faiths? If we can't accept difference within our own community, how would we ever be able to accept difference outside of our comfort zone?
I have never been
against religion, per say. But I can't help disliking (and sometimes hating) it for it's ability to discriminate and reinforce a "normal" and an "abnormal"; a "right" and a "wrong."
I don't understand why people aren't always accepted and praised for doing things their own way - regardless of tradition or rule. Rejecting progress, invention and change just seems so counterproductive to me. Our entire universe wouldn't be able to survive without those things and yet one of the largest institutions in our universe - religion - is for the most part in direct conflict with ideas of change and progress.
It's unfortunate - because I think religion and spirituality can often bring great joy and positivity to peoples lives but they are so often linked with hatred, discrimination and fear that the joy and positivity is constantly misused. (The lady at my table found joy, I suppose, in her belief not to write on passover... but she used that belief to contradict and attack me for what I may have found joyful.)
I stopped considering myself Jewish in the religious sense (I still consider myself Jewish in terms of heritage) because I stopped believing in God - but had I not stopped believing in God I would have had to leave religion because of how much harm it does - in my opinion, a lot more harm than good. And a lot of the time the harm can seem insignificant but in fact represents a much larger problem - one that has proved to be quite detrimental to many societies and many people.
I'd like to say that there's hope for religion - but as long as it rejects change and difference, I really don't know.
